


run run (as fast as you can)

by crybbybilly



Series: monster fuckin’ [1]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Drugged Sex, Forced Orgasm, I do what I want, Kinktober 2019, M/M, Other, Xenophilia, billy has a pet demodog, steve as little red, this is monster fucking, this is not about gingerbread men, upside down billy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-24
Updated: 2019-11-24
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21548215
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crybbybilly/pseuds/crybbybilly
Summary: Something rough drags across his cheek, burns cold where it’s pressed against Steve’s skin.
Relationships: Billy Hargrove/Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington/Demodog
Series: monster fuckin’ [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1589821
Comments: 11
Kudos: 179





	run run (as fast as you can)

**Author's Note:**

> read the tags you’ve been warned!  
> i believe this was written for day 3 of kinktober: forced orgasm/xenophilia, i just never got around to posting it.
> 
> un-beta’d as fuck

Something rough drags across his cheek, burns cold where it’s pressed against Steve’s skin. 

It pulls him from his slumber one touch at a time, first his face and then his shoulders, firm and unrelenting, a gentle hand until he wakes up groggy and confused surrounded by unfamiliar darkness.

“Wha?” Steve says out loud and to nothing, blinks away the remnants of sleep though his eyes feel too heavy and his body feels too lax. It feels a lot like he’s been drugged, a tired yet giddy feeling that reminds him of the Russians. 

Only he’s not trapped in some underground lab hidden within Starcourt, at least he doesn’t think so. Steve’s pretty sure it was all destroyed when the mall exploded, but life is unpredictable now and someone or something was definitely touching him just moments ago.

“Hello?” Steve calls out tentatively, weighted fog slowly lifting from his eyes as he takes in his surroundings.

He’s laid out on his back, something wet and cold seeping into his shirt as the damp smell of decomposition clogs his nose, putrid and foul. Steve frantically sits up, rises to his haunches, one hand pressed into the swampy soil as he takes it all in. 

He’s in the upside down, there's no doubt about that. 

As much as Steve wishes he could forget the soft blue glow that radiates off the thick black vines, the tunnels are unmistakable. The destruction and pain they brought with them are impossible to forget, Steve still has the scars.

He’s in the upside down without a single weapon, without his bat, or a slingshot. Nothing but shaky hands as the fear kicks in, makes his heart thump wildly in his chest. The gym shorts and t-shirt he fell asleep in offer no protection in this world, only reminds him that he had been safe in his own bed before this. 

“Took you long enough.” A familiar voice floats out from the shadows. 

Steve’s breath catches in his throat as he turns towards the source, eyes straining in the darkness.

It’s difficult to see but Steve can recognize that face anywhere, watched it contort in pain as life was ripped violently from its owners chest.

Bewildered, Steve calls out. “Billy?” 

He knows Billy is dead, like super fucking dead. No one survives being ripped into like that so the familiarity of the man in front of him offers no comfort. Steve tentatively rises to his feet, keeps a fair amount of distance between them.

Billy looks how he did before he died, dark veins undulating beneath his skin, skin dripping with sweat, covered in thick black blood, he looks unwell. When Billy smiles, flicks his tongue in that way, black blood coats his teeth, spills over his lips and chin.

“We’ve been waiting for you, Pretty Boy.”

Clenching his fist for a fight, ready for something, Steve’s heart beats double time in his chest. He wants to run but he feels rooted, bare feet sinking into the wet marsh of the upside down. 

“We?” Steve questions, looks around. He can hear it panting heavily in the darkness.

It steps out from behind Billy nudging it’s floral head against his hip, the blonde runs his hand over its head, pets it like it’s a real dog, not a drooling beast that only wants to rip people apart. Billy squats down to eye level with the Demodog, presses their foreheads together before turning towards Steve with that black blood smile. “I would start running if I were you.” 

“Billy, come on.” Steve laughs nervously but he blindly steps backwards nearly tripping over a thick vine.

The Demodog steps forward and screams, spittle flying from its jowls.

Steve runs, it begins to chase.

The tunnels are a maze, unfamiliar and dark, moving beneath Steve’s bare feet digging into the wet dirt. He hasn’t run this hard since high school, since Billy Hargrove was actually alive and pushing him on the courts. Steve’s never felt more out of shape in his life up until this moment, regrets the amount of ice cream he stuffed himself with when he worked at Scoops Ahoy. It’s made him soft, made him lazy. 

His lungs burn but he keeps going, putting more and more distance between himself and the sound of claws pounding into the earth behind him.

Steve knows he’s not going to make it, he has nothing to hold his ground and there’s nowhere to hide in this world. It moves around him, rotting, attempting to curl around him as he sprints as fast as his legs can take him. Vines snag his shirt, yanking at his limbs and causing him to stumble but Steve doesn’t fall. He keeps going, runs until he feels manic, until the sting of sweat burns his eyes. He wants to scream but that requires air he can’t afford to lose right now, not when he’s struggling to breath as it, not when he’s rounding a corner and something heavy slams into him from behind.

“Shit shit shit!” Steve curses as he hits the ground, desperately trying to pick himself back up, to roll forward on stinging knees. He barely gets off the floor before he’s being shoved back down by what feels like a claw pressing him into the damp earth, pricking into his skin, a warning not to move.

He’s going to die, he’s going to be mauled to death and torn to shreds and no one will ever find him. He’s going to end up like Barb, eaten alive bit by bit until he’s choking on his own blood. He can feel it’s putrid breath cool on the back of his neck, drooling as it stands over him unmoving.

Steve wants to move, digs his fingers into soil and dirt, squeezes his eyes tight as he braces himself for the inevitable, the snap of jaws to rip out his throat.

What comes is even more unsettling, wet and slick as the Demodog drags its cold tongue across the back of Steve’s neck and through his hair, licking him, tasting him with a loud huff.

“He likes you.” Billy muses from the darkness, his boots step into Steve’s line of vision. 

Steve squirms, risks casting his eyes towards Billy because clearly he’s in control of this monster that’s currently breathing over him, digging its sharp claws into his shoulder and holding him in place.

“Billy what the fuck, man!” Steve’s voice cracks.

He knows he’s panicking but he really doesn’t want to die right now, doesn’t want to be monster food. He’s not above begging for his life, pleading to any trace of humanity left in Billy though he knows he’s dead and they weren’t friends when he was alive. 

“I’m dreaming, I’ve got to be dreaming, this isn’t real.” Steve presses his forehead back into the dirt, eyes shut tight in search for reality.

The tongue is back, long and unrelenting as it licks over the sides of his face, behind his ears, his nose, his mouth. And suddenly it’s gone, the weight on his back disappearing as quickly as it slammed into him.

Something cold starts snaking its way up his legs instead, pressing tight around his ankles, curls around his arms and throat, it finds him from every direction, seeks him out. Steve turns his head, watches as the upside down moves on its own ready to consume him, thick onyx vines slick with god knows what. Steve can feel them all over his skin.

The Demodog is still there, standing over Steve’s back waiting for his next command, waiting for Billy as the vines tighten up, wrap higher and higher until Steve can feel them teasing at the edge of his shorts, ripping through the cotten of his shirt until it hangs off him in scraps. The more they touch him the heavier the fog from earlier starts to drift back over him, making Steve feel drunk and slow to respond.

“Billy?” Steve slurs his words, too lazy to fight the vines manipulating his body until he’s face down in the muck and his ass is exposed, violently shivering under the freezing touch of the upside down. “Billy please, what's going on?” he tries again.

Steve can’t fucking think straight, can’t fucking move. The Demodog is back to licking at the nape of his neck, trails it’s thick tongue low down his spine. Steve squirms, rocks forward on his knees as the creature’s slick tongue sliters between his cheeks, lapping at his hole. “Oh fuck.” Steve garbles, eyes squeezing shut.

Like everything else in the upside down the tongue is freezing, slick against his flushed skin like the vines holding him in place.

They’re dosing him with something, the way that he feels isn’t normal. Steve can’t stop shivering but it feels good against his overheated body, and the blunt press of the Demodog’s tongue slowly working him open has Steve moaning shamefully into the dirt. He can feel the creatures drool dripping down the backs of his thighs, against his balls, leaving him sticky and wet, and so fucking hard.

The demodog pulls away and Steve finds himself whimpering, searching for Billy again. He can’t see him but he can sense him watching from the shadows, hears the short whistle that escapes the darkness before the beast starts trying to mount him.

Steve goes to scream but it’s quickly muffled, a thick vine shoved deep into his throat, muffling his noises. The taste of it is foul, Steve wants to gag but he’s struggling to breath, trying not to panic at the drag of something fleshy and large along the insides of his thigh. The weight of the Demodog is heavy against his back, sharp nails clawing into his sides as it keeps trying and failing to fuck into him. It stings but nothing is like the pain that shoots through his spine when it finally drives home, fucking into the tight heat of his body.

The noise it lets out hurts Steve’s ears, has them ringing, covers up the violent scream from his own throat at the feeling of being split open. 

The vine in his mouth fully pulls free, allows Steve to gasp and sob as he’s roughly fucked into over and over, the force of the Demodog’s thrust pressing Steve farther into the dirt. Steve can feel his knees sinking into the mud, chokes on it. It hurts but Steve is still painfully hard, cock heavy and dripping between his legs as the Demodog humps into him. It’s the vines, the poison they’re pumping into him making him feel sluggish and aroused despite the pain coming from his backside. He’s never felt this full in his life, never needed to cum some badly that all he can do is cry, torn between wanting to crawl away or press back into the cold tapered length spearing him open.

Claws dig deeper into his sides, tear at the soft flesh of Steve’s belly and he moans, chokes on the sensation as the Demodog stops humping into him and holds still, pumps him full with sharp little thrust that have Steve gasping. He can feel it filling him up, so much so he feels like he might burst, like he could gag on the amount of cum being pumped into him with long cold spurts. It’s disgusting, the cold jelly like substances leaking out around the cock holding him open.

“Good boy.” Billy coos, steps out from the darkness and patting the Demodog on the head as it’s still in Steve, filling him up until his belly feels hard and distended.

Steve comes like that, listening to Billy’s praise, untouched and crying, shivering beneath the cold body hovering over him.

The Demodog climbs off shortly, leaving Steve open and dripping, feeling colder than he did when it was touching him. The vines retreat letting his body collapse fully to the ground, Steve misses them. Everything hurts, he knees, his face, his ass. Billy’s hands burn as he rolls Steve to his side, pets over his wet face with that sick black blood smile. “You did good too, Pretty Boy. It was perfect.” He says softly, pushing hair back off the sweat and mud coating Steve’s face.

Steve can’t help but to lean into the warmth of it, he’s so cold, fingertips freezing when the reach out to grab Billy’s wrist. “Why?” Is all he manages to get out before the fog starts taking over him again and he can barely keep his eyes open.

———

When Steve wakes up he’s fully dressed and back in his bed, the window is wide open and it’s absolutely freezing, breath catching in the icy winter air. He must have left it open when he was smoking last night. 

Steve ignores the wet ache between his legs as he gets up to shut the window, the bruising around his wrist and how impossibly full he feels.

It had to be a fucked up dream, right?

**Author's Note:**

> i’m still here y’all, thanks for reading my official “i’m back and i do what i want” fic !! this has been sitting in my drive since october. clearly i’ve taken so creative liberties with the demodogs.
> 
> shoutout to everyone in the harringrove fandom who’s been supportive af over the past couple of days and helped me get a new account together 💕


End file.
